Faltered
by M J Azilem
Summary: AU! The Supernatural story set in the old west! John was a blacksmith until Mary was killed,and Dean is injuried in the fire, left tramatized and with a limp. Mostly about Dean and how he grows into a hunter. starts w/weechester, no slash,
1. Chapter 1

Author note: I've wanted to write a Supernatural fic for a long time and this is the idea that kept coming up. I don't know if it's been done. I've been having difficulty getting it together, there's so much I could write and a lot I have written, it just all needs to be put together so it's coherent. I hope this makes sense it's to the point that I just needed to get it out and see if it sinks or swims. Thank You For Reading.

Faltered: Chapter One

John Winchester never faltered. At the young age of sixteen he'd volunteered for the army and fought in the Mexican American war. He was brave and strong and let nothing scare him.

A few years after the war had ended he'd come to Lawrence, settled in as a blacksmith, and swept the prettiest girl in town off her feet. He and Mary were soon married and lived simply in a small house just outside of town. They had always seemed happy and sociable; they attended parties and were at church every Sunday. Their first son was born just a year after they were married.

Dean had been a charmer from the tender age of two he'd had anyone he'd met wrapped around his finger. The town's pastor Jim would commented on Sunday after his sermon what a happy little boy Dean was, hanging on his mother's apron strings.

The Winchesters seemed to be the perfect family. They were overjoyed by the addition of their second son four years after the first. Life for the Winchesters seemed to be ideal. Then six months after Samuel was born there was a devastating fire.

In the middle of the night the house burned to the ground. Young Dean had been injured while helping to get his baby brother out of the burning house. The four year old exhibited great courage and determination when he was hit by a falling board and still managed to make it out of the house with the baby unscathed in his arms.

As the town's people woke and started coming out of their houses to see what was happening, the damage was done. The house on the outside of town could no longer be seen in its place were flaming ruins. John had rode into town in his cart with an infant in one arm and Dean bundled in a horse blanket at his side. Jim who had run to the town bell could see John's eyes were wide and red as the cart drove past.

John halted his horse and cart in front of the Doctor's house and banged on the door. Jim took Samuel from his father and John with as much gentleness as he could muster lifted a very pale Dean from the seat.

The Doctor came and took the boy into his office and John followed the old man. Other men rush to get buckets and rode out to the Winchester house desperate to put out the flames. Somewhere someone asked where Mary was. Jim cradled the crying baby in his arms, watched as the smoke billowed from the flames and he knew that Mary was gone.

* * *

The Doctor did what he could for Dean whose ribs were injured where the falling board had struck him. The doctor had John sit as he told him the young boy had also broken his knee from landing with all his weight on it when he fell.

The old doctor wrapped the young boy's ribs tightly and braced and wrapped his leg. Dean whimpered softly and called for his mother when the pain was too much. Unable to hold the boy's hand for fear of hurting him further John gripped the table the doctor had Dean lying on till his knuckles were white.

Finally the Doctor was satisfied and decided the little boy should be moved to the bed in the next room. John did his best not to hurt the boy gently easing him into the bed arranging the pillows around him. Dean was in pain and there was nothing he could do about it.

John was trying to focus on what he could do who he could help. "Sleep now Dean." Dean nodded his head slightly as tears ran down his checks.

"Poppa, where's Sam?" The small boy's eyes were drooping.

"He's safe Dean." John assured placing a hand on Dean's chest feeling the boy's shallow breathing. Jim brought the quieted baby into his father. John stood next to the bed and looked over his shoulder at the Pastor. "I'm sorry John, there's nothing left." John nodded and in the darkened room Jim sworn he saw John Winchester cry.

Dean woke up the day after the fire and asked for his mother, John felt he had no choice but to tell the child she had died in the fire. Dean had gotten very still, he tried to hold back his tears but he was too young and to weak, he cried. John left him alone to cry. When he stopped crying John came back into the room but Dean wouldn't look at him and wouldn't talk to him.

John got so frustrated that he took the boy by the shoulders and shook him. Dean responded by wincing away from his father out of pain and fear. When John realized what he was doing he released the boy Dean cowered averting is eyes at any attempted John made to talk to his son. John grew frustrated and a heavy sadness drew down on him till he could no longer stand to be in the room. He left feeling he had utterly failed; leaving the boy alone.

John left Dean, went to the bar, and crawled into a bottle. He needed to numb himself from the world. Mary was gone and the town's people were already starting in whisper that he was the one who started the fire.

John confessed to Jim that he didn't start the fire. He didn't know what did, and that he felt at fault for not being able to save his wife.

There was no family close that John could turn to for help. It did not take long at all for John to infuriate and alienate all the good friends he and Mary had had. Jim was the one that eventually took in the downtrodden blacksmith and his family.

TBC…

Your thoughts and reviews are welcomed.


	2. Chapter 2

Faltered: Chapter 2

Dean remained at the doctors for two weeks. In that time John had Jim perform a small service in honor of Mary. John placed a small iron cross on the site of their house in her memory.

John carried the Dean from the doctors to Jim's house by the church early one morning two weeks after the fire. Dean had not spoken in nearly as long. The brown haired boy kept his eyes down and kept any murmurings of pain as small as he could. His ribs were healing well but still sore. The doctor had tried to prepare John for the fact that Dean may not walk again. His knee did not look like it would ever heal right. Every time the old doctor brought up the fact John refused to hear it.

Dean lay in the bed at the pastor's for nearly a week after leaving the Doctor's. John tried talking to the boy, tried begging, and even ordering but Dean would not speak. He didn't look at John or Jim, he ate very little and just looked miserable.

It was on Saturday that John came into the room were Dean lay awake staring at the ceiling. He carried a gurgling baby in his arms. He stood at the foot of Dean's bed and spoke in a low and stern tone.

"Dean you need to get up. I don't care if you never speak to me again but I need you up out of that bed. Sammy needs you up out of that bed. Dean he's your little brother, your responsibility." John then placed the baby in Dean's lap and walked out.

John knew that Dean would never let anything happen to Sammy. The boy had been a loving brother since the day Sammy was born. John felt comfortable leaving the two children alone at least for a little while.

He hadn't been alone since the fire. It felt strange to not have Sam in his arms or Jim watching over his shoulder. Everything was quiet and John walked out to the back of the house where Jim had a garden. John admired the patch of ground. He like being out side in the open air but he'd never been much of a farmer. He didn't get to work out side much with his chosen profession. Generally his Blacksmith's shop was dark and sooty.

John bent down to pull a weed that was growing at his feet. Mary had loved being outside. She had always looked beautiful in the sunlight. Her yellow hair would brighten and her blue eyes would shine. Her cheeks and nose would turn a rosy pink that John always felt added to her beauty.

John took a handful of dirt and let it run threw his fingers. She'd been the sun in his life, whenever she was near his world brightened. He missed her; his whole body ached at the thought of her. That he would never see her face again or hold her close on a winter's night was crushing him. He could feel it his chest tightened making it hard for him to breathe.

His life now seemed moment to moment. He'd get through one moment without her and then there was another to get through. Everything reminded him of her. It was all still so fresh in his mind. He'd given her a service even though there was nothing to bury; everyone had said it would give him closure. But it hadn't, there was no closure not until he understood what had happened. The image haunted him, his wife bleeding on the ceiling, while his baby and terrified son looked on.

The town's people who didn't know the truth, assumed the fire had been an accident, a lamp knocked over or a stray ember from the hearth. Well not all of them thought the best, John knew that some of the towns people suspected that he'd done it. He tried not to let that get to him but he couldn't fathom why anyone would think he'd kill his beloved Mary. The thought sickened him and made him fell guilty. In the back of his mind he felt that by not saving her he had killed her. But that was no accident something did that something evil.

John peered up at the steeple of the church next door. The house of the Lord. Mary had loved to go to church; she had especially loved the music. She knew the words to all the songs and she'd sing them at home. She'd even made up words of her own that she'd sing to the boys. John wanted to know how God could let something so horrible happen to one of his most beautiful creations.

Disgusted John walked back to the house. His eyes turned down to the ground as he stalked back.

Something caught his eye as he got close to the house and made him pause. _Is that salt on the ground?_ he wondered as he looked down at the foundation of the house. He started to kneel down but he heard Sammy cry out and his attention turned back to his boys.

Once He got inside Sammy's crying had been calmed.

John was surprised Sammy had been very hard to calm since the fire, probably because he wanted his mother. As John neared the bedroom he heard something, it was faint humming.

Dean was humming. It was a tune that was familiar to John not that he could remember the words. Mary would have known what song it was, it was one she had sung to the boys. John stopped at the door waiting for something to happen, he didn't know what. He even felt his breath catch in his throat but there was nothing.

The humming ended and everything was quiet. John sighed and went into the room. Dean lay in the bed with a quiet Sammy next to him. Dean's face still had the same sad expression it had before John had left. John knew there was nothing for him to do, he didn't know what to do for Dean and Sammy seemed more content being with Dean then with him.

John left the boys alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Faltered Chapter 3

Jim had watched their wounds close up physically and mentally. John changed from a loving father to an aloof authority figure. Dean changed from a sweet happy child, to a laconic scared young boy who was constantly in pain. When Sam was a year old John had found his family a new home far outside of town. Jim had done everything he could to try and keep John from taking the boys that far but in the end they'd gone. Jim visited them every chance he could over the next year.

At first his weekly trips out to the Winchesters were always the same. He always found John doing something: working on the garden or in the barn. The boys were never far from him; Dean was always looking after Sam.

A number of times on these early visits Jim had tried to convince John to send Dean who was now five into town to start school, but John had always refused. Dean still didn't speak. John didn't see the need benfit of paying for a mute boy to go to school. John decided to teach Dean himself.

Jim relented and asked if he could at least teach the boy about God and the Bible. John had agreed and it was decided that Jim would come to the Winchester Farm every other Wednesday to teach Dean and then Sam when he was older.

One particular Wednesday when he got to the farm he heard John's raised voice as he got down from his Horse.

"Dammit Dean walk right..." Jim had heard John say that before. John had been yelling at Dean to walk without a limp for months but try as the little boy might he just couldn't manage it. Jim sadly thought the limp was a probably a result of John stubbornly making Dean walk on his injured leg before it had healed.

John's voice got loud again. "How are you suppose to be any help to me if you can't walk right?..."

Jim got his books out of his saddle bags.

"How are you suppose to protect Sammy?..." That was new Jim had never heard John say that. Protect Sam from what he wondered.

* * *

After the Dean's lesson was finished and the boys were put to bed Jim sat down with John.

"How is everything John?" The Pastor asked the dark haired man who was gripping a tin cup and staring at the black coffee getting cold in it. He looked tired and frustrated. Jim couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be quite a lot of knives laid around and a new gun over the fireplace.

"John I heard that you've been to see Missouri Mosley." Jim said. John sunk deeper into his coffee cup, ashamed that the Pastor knew he'd been to see the clairvoyant.

"I did pastor and I learned the truth." John said lowly. "It wasn't an accident, something killed my Mary."

Pastor Jim nodded he had a feeling that John was going to say something like that. "Do you know what?"

John looked up from his coffee, not quite understanding what the pastor was asking. "What do you mean, what?"

"I mean was it something demonic? Other worldly?" Jim spoke in a hushed tone not wanting the young boys to hear.

"Missouri says it was evil." John explained cautiously. "I've been doing some research, asking around. There, well there's evil out there Pastor."

"I know John, I know there is. I just didn't know it had come to our little town." Jim turned to face John and look him in the eyes. John watched as the Pastor's eyes got dark and cold. "I've met these dark things before, There are others out there John who know of these things. If you're interested you should go and talk to Bobby Singer in town. He knows a lot about hunting."

"Hunting?"

"There are some out there John who don't wait for the supernatural to come to them, they go out looking for it."

"What do they do hunt it and kill it?"

"And often save lives in the process. It's a noble but thankless profession John. One that should not be taken on lightly." Jim noticed the interest in John's expression and back track a bit. "One that does not lend itself well to raising a family. John I would suggest that for your boy's sake, do not left this take over your life. There have been men who have gone mad hunting." Jim paused again. "John I do not mean to pry but it is my belief that the best thing for you and your family would be for you to grieve properly and then move on with your life. John everyone has lost someone but you have two wonderful young boys who need you to be strong for them."

John was conflicted and it was eating him up. He knew in his head that he needed to focus on his sons and their wellbeing. But every time he looked at them his heart ached as he saw Mary's face and his gut did summersaults as he remembered his wife pinned to the ceiling of their home as it burned. He wanted to grieve and feel normal again but he couldn't. Not til he killed what killed his Mary

* * *

"What can I do for you Mr. Winchester?" Bobby Singer greeted the other man and his two boys as they came through his shop door.

"Pastor Jim said I might come speak with you." John held a baby in his arms and had another little boy on his coat tails.

Bobby eyed the other man. "Sure we can talk."

Bobby's eyes shifted from John to the young children and back to John who took the hint.

"Dean, take Sammy and go sit out on the step." John handed the baby to the little boy. Dean held the baby tight and looked up at his father with big green eyes.

"Go now." John said gruffly. The boy turned and went outside to sit on the step. He didn't say a word, his expression stayed blank.

Once the children were out of earshot John turned to Bobby. "What can you tell me about the Supernatural?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"I have to know. Something killed my wife..."

"I'm all for killing evil Mr. Winchester but you know what they say about revenge."

"I don't care. You can help me or I can find someone else." John was quiet for a moment sizing the man in front of him up.

"Alright what do you want to know?" Bobby led John back thru his shop to a door that was locked. Taking the key from his jacket pocket he unlocked the heavy door and reviled a dark room stacked with piles and piles of books. He took a match and lit the lamp that sat on a table by the door.

"Legends and lore from the four corners the globe Mr. Winchester." John's lips cracked into a small devilish smile. "What exactly are you looking for Mr. Winchester?"

"It's John and I'll know it when I see it."

* * *

Dean sat on the steps outside and cradled Sammy in his arms. It was awkward; Sammy was getting too big for Dean to hold. But Dean didn't want to admit that. They sat on the steps alone as the sun rose and it got hot outside. Dean didn't know how long they were going to have to sit there but he was going to do as he was told. He wouldn't move from the spot.

Sammy started wriggling in his arms and Dean rocked the baby gently up and down as best he could. Sammy appreciated the effort and gave Dean a big toothless grin. Dean loved it when Sammy smiled it made him almost feel like smiling too but then something inside him something he couldn't explain and didn't understand made him not want to smile because he wasn't supposed to be happy he was just suppose to watch Sammy.

Dean watched the men ride by on their horses and he liked horses. His Poppa had a kindly old black horse that pulled their cart. They didn't ride the horse. Dean wondered what it would be like to get up in the saddle of a tall horse like the man in town rode. He'd have to get some help to get up but once he was he bet it would feel like freedom. He bet you didn't have to worry when you were on a horse.

Dean held onto Sammy a little tighter as a couple ladies pasted behind him on the board walk. He heard them talk as they walked away he heard his father's name and then his mothers and he felt sad. The woman disappeared into a doorway and Dean was alone with a two year old Sammy still in his arms.

Tcb….


	4. Chapter 4

Faltered: Chapter 4

Sam was a curious four year old. It was Dean's job to keep his eye on him nearly every minute.

Today while their worked Pop repairing the fence that penned in the cow and the horse they kept; little Sammy was chasing after a frog that was hopping around their well. Dean sat quietly nearby keeping one eye on Sam and one eye on his father.

Dean was eight years old now and he would have really liked to be helping his father and not watching the baby but he couldn't express his desire to do so. So he did what his father told him. It had been days maybe weeks since his father said anything to him besides ordering him to watch Sammy or clean up or go to bed. Dean knew that Pop had other things on his mind. He was just happy his father was here with them. Ever since they had gone into town years ago to Mr. Singers his pop had been leaving alone with the Pastor.

He would be gone for a few days, them he would come back. He'd take them back to their farm and scribble in his book. Dean never saw what he was writing because his father always closed and hid the book whenever Dean got too close. Then his father after a few days would be done writing in his book and he'd go back to working on the farm.

That was all Dean had come to expect his father's attention to be focused on something other than him. He really liked it better when no one was focused on him. As long as He was a good boy and he did what he was told maybe his father would be happy and not yell at him or call him names or tell him to walk right.

Then maybe his pop would let him help with grown up work.

* * *

John keep his guard up constantly, even as he did the work he needed to do on his farm in the back of his mind was the hunt. Soon he would pack up his things and leave his boys with the pastor and get back to his chosen work.

Now he was preparing, taking notes in his journal, researching, and forging some new iron darts and other weapons in the blacksmith workshop he'd set up on his property.

As he did the work that had to be done on his fence he watched his boys. Sam was growing up healthy and strong, Mary would have been delighted to see what a charming child he'd grown into. He was curious and smart. John loved reading to the young boy and having Sam ramble stories he'd made up. The imaginative child was talkative and bright. He was surly going to be handsome when he grew up. He had Mary's light hair and eyes. John took great joy in having Sammy around.

Dean was the opposite in looks and manor. His hair had gotten dark, in certain light it almost appeared black and his eyes even though they were green seemed to have a darkness as well.

It had been four years since Dean had spoken to John. John had always hoped that the boy would grow out of it, so far no amount of begging or ordering had gotten Dean to open his mouth. Still Dean was a good boy. He didn't act up; he did most everything else John told him to do. He still limped; it was a shallow quick hitch. He would even compensate with a hop step when he needed to move quickly. It didn't seem to pain the boy too much. This didn't stop John from feeling guilty where the boy was concerned.

John had one eye on the boys. Sammy was hopping around like a little frog. John smiled at the little boy playing. Dean sat close by watching him but did not get involved with Sam's game. John supposed that Dean was getting a little old for games with his brother.

Dean never seemed to mind watching his brother. John had observed over the years that Dean was usually more focused and responsive when around Sam.

spspsps

Dean sighed Sammy was hopping around like a frog. Dean could only just remember the time before the fire, when he felt like Sammy must, carefree.

Dean leaned against the large forked tree by the well and thought about his mother. Before the fire had taken her away she had been warm and pretty. He missed her very much.

His pop had taken him and Sammy to the place where their house had been. The place was no longer his home there was no more house and the land looked strange and empty. The only thing that stood there was an iron cross Pop had placed there as a monument. Dean had touched it and been shocked by how cold it was. It did not remind him of his mother at all. Sammy reminded him of his mother, Sammy was his home now.

Dean was trying to remember Mary's face when he heard someone shouting. Instantly he became aware that his pop was shouting because Sammy had hopped away from the well and was now face to face with a mutt that had wondered onto their property.

* * *

John dropped his tools and yelled when he saw the strange dog making its way over to Sam. He wasn't close enough to a pistol and Sammy was too close to the dog for John to use the shotgun he had at hand. So John started running towards the mean looking dog with the intention of grabbing Sammy and kicking the flea bitten mutt.

He didn't get close to the now growling dog; just as John grabbed Sam a rock the size of fist smacked the animal right between the eyes.

The dog ran off, and John was too stunned by what had happened to chase the creature down and put it out of its misery. Holding Sam tight in him arms he turned to his eldest son. Dean stood breathing a heavy with a determined look on his face.

John couldn't believe what he'd seen he wasn't sure he could have throw that accurate from the distance Dean had if he'd wanted too. "You've got a good arm on you son." _good aim too_ John thought.

Dean nodded as John put Sammy down. Sammy ran to Dean. Dean's eyes scanned the younger boy for any injuries.

John watched Dean closely as the he comforted his little brother.

"Dean, have I ever taught you how to hold a gun?"

* * *

The boy had landed on his backside the first time he squeezed the trigger. But after adjusting his stance and preparing himself for the kickback Dean Winchester bulls eyed every can and bottle his father set up on the fence. Poppa Winchester was a proud man, he bet no one else's son in town could have done as well there first time.

"Good job son." John patted the skinny boy on the back and held out his hand for the gun.

Dean gripped the gun tightly. It was the first taste of power of control he'd had in his young life. He like it, he also like the look his father was giving him. It was something Dean had rarely seen these past for years. He wanted to hold onto it all, the feelings the warm gun in his hand. He feared he'd never feel that way again.

Pop was insisting he get the gun back so Dean carefully handed back the weapon. "Now take your brother inside and get ready, Pastor Jim is nearly here."

Dean did as he was told, collected Sammy and went back in the house. He looked back over his shoulder, his father still held the gun.

* * *

John sat and watched while Jim taught the boys. He thought hard about what he should do next. The conclusion he came to was that he needed to train Dean. He'd have to see what the boy was physically capable of but he could at least teach him proper care of a gun and how to safely use a knife. John knew he would feel better leaving the boys without him if Dean at least could protect them. Not, that John didn't trust Jim just that he trusted blood more.

tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for your Reviews they have been encouraging.**

**Faltered**: Chapter 5

John had certainly been surprised, the boy was a natural. Not only could he shoot a gun but he could take it apart, clean it, and put it back together. Dean had taken to other training as well, tracking and hunting, surviving in the wild, care of weapons, standing guard. John had found his own little silent soldier, to mold.

He had stuck to practical training at first and not the supernatural.

John was not quite sure how to burden the young man with that knowledge that the fearful young boy really did have something to fear.

John hated to put that upon Dean after he'd finally made a connection with the boy and seen him come out of himself. The boy still had episodes where he wouldn't look at John.

He still hadn't spoken. John was coming to believe maybe the boy had lost the capacity in the fire. But most days his son was alert and ready to work.

It was after a particularly gruesome hunt that a whiskey soaked John came home convinced that he could not keep his son in the dark any longer….

* * *

"Dean sit." John ordered like a sergeant. The barefooted ten year old in his night close did so without hesitation, his eyes remaining neutral.

"I have something very important I need to talk with you about." John's voice was low and quiet. Sammy was already asleep in the next room and John didn't want to wake him. Sam was too young; to unscarred to hear what he was going to say.

Dean sat in straight in the chair like he'd been taught and waited very seriously.

Dean had taken his role very seriously over the past two years; his father trusted him and he was in charge of the family whenever his pop went away.

He had been training very hard.

He knew lots of ways now to protect Sammy and he always carried on him the small pen knife his father had given him. He kept it clean and sharp just as he'd been taught.

When his pop said something was important Dean paid attention.

"Son I've been training you for two years now, you've done better than I ever would have imagined." John's tone was a little sad.

Dean self consciously moved his hand to rest over his bad knee, he had always been ashamed of it.

John continued. "There are thing out there though that you are not yet prepared for."

Dean knew that his Poppa went off and fought bad things when he left town. Dean imagined that he must be fighting horse thieves and Indians like the Marshalls he'd heard about.

Jim often said when Sammy asked where Pop would go that John was off saving people.

Dean wanted to save people like his father, he knew he needed to learn all he could from the man so he would be prepared. He wanted to save people like his mother.

Dean looked up at his father waiting for what he was to learn next.

John's face grew cold and stoic. Dean was starting to grow uneasy. He tried to keep his focus.

"Son, there is evil in the world and I'm not talking about the bad men with their faces on the wanted posters hanging in town. I'm talking about the evil that Pastor Jim preaches about in the church. Devils, Dean they're here I've seen them, fought them. Demons that takeover good people, monsters that attack Innocent victims, spirits that take their vengeance out on anyone who's in the wrong place at the wrong time, and more. "

Dean started unconsciously shaking his head and gripping the chair. He didn't know why his pop was saying these things. He didn't want to hear them.

"You've seen the evil. The Devil was what took your mama Dean. I know you've heard the town's folk say it must have been a candle or a lantern that broke. It wasn't. A demon took her from us son. I didn't want to tell you this but someone has got to protect Sammy when I'm not here and it's going to have to be you."

John still saw the image when he closed his eyes of the two young children cut open and eaten by a monster, he'd been too late to save them. In his nightmares those children were Sam and Dean.

Dean's face had gone pale and John could see him trembling.

"It's alright son, I was scared too but demons, monsters, and ghosts they have their weaknesses and I'll teach you, we'll start in the morning." John finished and sank down at the kitchen table placing his book in front of him.

Dean sat for a long while back pressed against the back of the chair. His eyes searched the large room of their modest house, every shadow thrown by the fire light because a new torture in his mind; every dark corner a looming terror.

He wasn't safe. His father had often made that point before; the world was a dangerous place.

After the fire Dean had feared everything. The world had seemed large and strange.

When his father started his training he had started to feel a bit safer. He could protect himself and Sam. Now that there were Monster's in the world to fear.

Dean didn't know what to do.

Dean was no longer seeing the room or the shadows he had retreated back into his head, hashing and rehashing the worlds that his father had spoken. Then a voice cut through the panic.

Dean's eyes flew across the room to search each shadow and dark spot until they focused on the source of the voice.

"Go to bed son." John said tiredly. Dean obeyed without thought, thankful for the direction.

John watched the small boy's faltering walk and felt the need for a very strong drink.

* * *

There were orders in their house not to have a candle or a lantern burning when you went to bed. Most nights this was not a problem; often the moon was big enough that no light was necessary.

Tonight it was black as pitch. It was all Dean could do to crawl into the bed he shared with his brother. Then he couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

He felt that the darkness was trying to swallow him and he was terrified. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and laid still, eyes wide.

He trembled a bit and wished he had a match so he wouldn't be in the dark. Then he heard Sammy's soft breathing next to him.

Panic gripped him if he couldn't see it, if he couldn't fight it, he couldn't protect Sam.

He lay awake gripping the blanket around him, focused on Sam's easy breathing. Eventually sleep fell upon him with a heavy hand and Dean didn't move or stir until just before dawn when a cold hand took hold of his shoulder and shook him.

Dean was jarred from his uneasy sleep and lashed out at what he perceived to be an attacker.

John easily blocked the small fist that flew at him.

"Good reflexes boy, but watch who you're swing at. Now get up there's work to be done." John said gruffly and left the room.

Dean blinked to try and clear his bleary eyes. The sun was just starting to come thru the curtains and Dean was thankful for even the dim light.

Dean grabbed the trousers he'd left on the floor the night before and pull them on and tucked his long under shirt in. The pants were a bit big so John had fashioned a belt for the boy out of an old gun sling, John didn't believe in suspenders they didn't let you bend and move like a hunter needed.

Dean bent way over and put his boots on. Propping his feet against the bed's foot board in turn to better reach the laces as he tied them since his bad knee didn't allow him to crouch down very well.

He'd grown out of his good shirt. It had been handed down to Sammy. He had not yet gotten a new one so for now he put his vest on over his undershirt and pulled on jacket.

After making sure Sammy was still sound asleep he left the room. He went outside to the well and drew a bucket up. He washed his face and hands and rinsed out his month.

He hadn't seen his pop since he'd woke up but he knew where he would be.

* * *

Dean pulled hard on the heavy door. Inside he found his father pumping the large bellows that was connected to the coal fire in the Blacksmith shop.

"Close the door, the wind's not helping" Dean quickly did as his father said.

"Go sit over there." John nodded to a stool at the work bench. Dean did as he was told. Once there he noticed that there were a number of things laid out on the work bench. It looked like water, salt, a railroad spike, a wooden cross, a shiny knife, a piece of chalk and an old book.

Dean curiously lifted the cover of the book. The words inside didn't look like anything he's seen before, the letters looked strange and backwards.

"That's Latin." John said from behind Dean causing the boy to jump.

"It's a powerful tool against Demons. Usually spoken for exorcisms…"John stopped short. "Of course that might be hard if you're mute."

He lifted an eyebrow at the boy. He still kept hope that one day Dean would wake up and talk.

The boy didn't so John moved on "maybe I'll have Sam learn Latin. Pastor Jim will probably be able to teach him to speak it; of course you will need to study it also. You'll need to be able to read it."

Dean couldn't imagine being able to read the strange words in the book but he nodded anyway.

"That's holy water in the bottle, salt is good for repelling spirits, Irons good for spirits too, the knife is silver that's good for killing lots of monsters…"

Dean touched the blade and wondered how many monsters it had killed. He wondered if he saw a monster would he be able to kill it or would he be too scared. If it was a matter of protecting his brother he had a feeling he could do It.

TCB….


	6. Chapter 6

**Faltered Chapter 6**

It had been three weeks since John left Dean and Sammy on their own to go on a hunt. Dean had done the best he could to take care of Sammy in that time. It was November and cold. Dean had taken care to chop wood and kept the fire going in the hearth.

Three weeks wasn't the longest amount of time that John had ever been gone but this time seemed to be different for Dean then the others.

His Father had said he'd been gone a week now it was going on three.

Pop had left them their rations for while he was gone; salted pork, hard tack, and canned peaches that were only to be eaten in an emergency.

The rest of the food was locked up in storage in back of the house and John had taken the key.

He had said he'd be back soon.

They were running out of food.

Dean was scared for Sammy and he'd started to fear that their Pop was dead.

* * *

Dean opened the last can of peaches. He had been trying to save it as long as possible but it was Supper time and Sammy was hungry. Dean had nothing else to give him except some hard tack.

Sammy hated hard tack.

Dean had been weighing their options. Pop had built the storage shed so that no one could steal from them, so Dean doubted he could break into it. If he did manage to get into it Pop would be really made at him.

He'd set some traps the day before hoping to catch a rabbit or fox anything that he cook and they could eat. So far he'd not caught a thing.

He couldn't go deep into the woods to hunt because he couldn't leave Sammy and he couldn't take Sammy, the eight year old just didn't have it in him.

They hadn't seen Pastor Jim since the first week. Dean had hoped that he would come again this week, but he hadn't.

That meant unless Pop was there bright and early tomorrow morning He and Sammy would have to walk the five miles into town and hope Pastor Jim would take them in.

Dean poured the peach juice into a bowl and put the peach on a plate. He sliced it up and put both in front of Sammy who was reading a book that Pastor Jim had lent him.

Sammy regarded the plate hungrily; he hadn't had much to eat in the last few days. "Is Poppa going to be mad that we ate the peaches?" Sammy worried aloud. Dean shook his head slightly to comfort the boy. Honestly he didn't know; the peaches were expensive he knew that.

That probably meant Pop would be mad.

"Is there anything else left?" Sam was ready to dig in but only if it was a last resort.

Dean held up the two pieces of hardtack still left and handed one to Sam. Sam took it and wrinkled his nose. Dean knew the stuff was disgusting but that was all they had left.

Sammy broke the large thick cracker and slyly dropped it into the peach juice. "It's not so bad if you eat it together, it reminds me of that pie we had last summer at Pastor Jim's the one the church ladies brought over. You remember that pie, Dean? That sure was good. If there was one here now I bet I could eat the whole thing by myself."

Dean remembered the pie, it had been like heaven.

"You ever have a pie like that one before, Dean?" Dean hated when Sam got in one of his questioning moods. Sammy liked to talk and that was fine. Dean didn't like to talk and all Sammy's question drove him a little crazy.

Dean nodded in answer to Sammy's question.

"Where'd you have pie before Dean?" Sammy asked and shoved his slate board and chalk in front of his older brother. It was a novelty Sammy had only recently discovered. If he asked Dean a question Dean would sometimes write an answer if Sammy pressed him enough.

Sammy was looking at him expectantly, Dean wished he'd just eat and be quiet. But he wanted Sammy to be happy so he picked up the chalk and wrote H O M E.

Sammy took the board back and looked at it "Home, why didn't you just say that Dean?" Sammy looked at him like he'd made a joke. Dean didn't find it very funny but he gave the little boy a half hearted smile and nod.

"What do you mean home Dean? I've never had pie here? Do you mean before the fire? Did mama make pies?"

Dean didn't respond, he's eyes focused on the fireplace. Sammy noticed the change in his brother and asked a little more quietly, as he pushed the chalk across the table to his brother. "What kind did she make?"

Dean wouldn't take the chalk. Sammy didn't want make Dean mad so he left the chalk where it was and started to eat the cut up peach. "Aren't you going to have any?" Sammy stuck a big slice in his mouth.

Dean blinked and shook his head. He had the one piece of hard tack left. He decided to wrap it in a handkerchief and stick it in his pocket. They'd need it if they had to walk into town tomorrow.

"You can have some of mind." Sammy offered his plate. Dean shook his head and sat down at the table.

Sammy ate.

* * *

Dean had checked under the beds and all around the house after he put Sammy to bed just like his Pop had taught him. Once he was sure the house was safe and that Sammy was asleep Dean grabbed the shotgun and went to go check the traps.

His stomach growled and gurgled and ate at his insides as he pulled his thin jacket closer against the cold wind.

The traps were empty.

After finding the last one with nothing Dean sat down on the cold ground defeated. He sat there quietly. He jumped at the crack of every branch and the rustle of every tree. In the back of his mind he knew it was probably just the wind but after awhile his stomach convinced him that it must be food. He shot every cartridge he had and came up empty every time; there was nothing out there to shoot.

Finally exhausted and hungry he dragged the useless gun back home.

He trudged into the small shanty of a house and stopped instantly alert again. Something was not as he left it. It was colder in the house. Turning to the room he shared with Sammy he saw that the door was closed more than he remembered it being.

The house was dark. Dean didn't take any time to light a candle. He stepped forward cursing the creak that the floor made and gently pushed open the door. His eyes were slow to adjust to the dark when they did he was horrified at what he saw.

A figure was floating above the bed over Sammy.

Dean grabbed for his gun but he didn't have anything to shoot, he stumbled around trying to find something anything to load the weapon with.

Pop had told him to shoot anything that came into their home or threatened Sammy. This was doing both and he couldn't find any powder in the dark. There was nothing to shoot the strange creature with.

Dean Panicked.

Then the door slammed open behind him and Dean felt his heart nearly jump out of his chest with terror.

He was pushed aside as someone big past him causing him to lose his footing. He caught himself of the door jamb before he fell.

It was Pop. Pop was there and he was going to save them. Dean felt relief wash over him.

John shot at the horrible thing and it fled. Sammy was alright, he would be alright.

Dean Stood in the doorway as their Poppa held Sammy who woke up confused but unharmed.

Their Father looked relieved until he turned to Dean. His expression turned to anger.

"Where were you!" John said accusingly. Dean had no reply. He couldn't say he was trying to find something for them to eat because John hadn't left them enough food. He could only stand silently and listen to what his father said.

"You were supposed to protect him." John laid Sam back on the bed. "Those were your orders." John crossed the floor to his oldest son. "He almost died tonight because of you." John growled and then punctuated the statement by slapping Dean roughly across the face.

Dean's world rocked, he'd never been hit before. He'd never failed so utterly. John walked out of the room and there in the darkness the small world Dean had made for himself shattered.

He didn't move for a long time until a cold breeze ran up him back. Instantly his thoughts turned to protecting Sammy. Dean went and shut the window.

The moon seemed bright again he could see in the room. Sammy had fallen back to sleep on the bed. Dean looked at his brother sleeping, he wanted to wake him. He wanted to be reassured that it hadn't been his fault that everything was alright. Sammy's smile always made things better.

Dean didn't wake up his brother. He had messed up and almost gotten Sammy killed. He had let down his father.

Dean grabbed Sammy's Slate board and chalk. Then sitting under the window in the moonlight he scrawled I AM SORRY.

He stared at the words he'd written. No one was there to see them. He was useless.

Tears pooled in his eyes.

He knew what he had to do, concentrating hard he opened his mouth and formed that words.

No sound came out. He had no voice.

He couldn't tell Sammy he was sorry.

TBC….

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Ideas are welcomed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Faltered: Chapter 7 **

When John woke up the next morning he wished he could forget about the night before night that Sammy was almost killed by a striga, he wanted to forget the whole incident. He didn't want to think about it ever again.

He had been hunting it in the town just north of Lawrence, he'd realized there was a pattern but was unable to catch it before it ran out of siblings to feed on.

He realized quickly that if the monster was going to feed again his children were likely targets. He rode without stopping for himself or for his horse.

He gotten to the house just in time.

John shuttered to think what would have happened if he'd not picked up on the striga's pattern.

He had been so scared when he saw Sammy being attacked. So disappointed in himself for being so close to too late.

He'd taken it out on Dean.

The next morning John had found that there was no food in the house. That the storage shed was untouched. He found the empty traps set at the edge of his property and he realized what must have happened.

He found Dean asleep on the floor of the small bedroom under the windowsill. His apology scrawled in black and white for the world to see.

John lifted his son up off the floor and laid him in the bed next to his brother.

As he tucked Dean in Sammy started to stir.

The smaller boy opened his eyes. "Poppa!" he excitedly exclaimed. John put his finger to his lips and hushed his youngest son.

Sammy slipped out of the bed and followed his father into the next room.

"Shouldn't we wake up Dean for breakfast?" Sammy knew his father's routine as well as Dean did. You got up when the sun came up, eat breakfast and went to work.

"No Sammy not today." Sam looked a bit confused as he took a seat at the table while John brought some food from the storage Shed into the house.

Then it dawned on Sam what was happening. "Poppa I ate the peaches, don't be mad at Dean. We saved them as long as we could. I'm sorry I'm sorry."

John's heart broke. "It's alright Sam I'm not mad." How could he be it was his fault they'd run out of food. He was the one who'd gone off hunting and didn't come home.

The little boy's eyes got bright. "Oohh then can we have oatmeal or ooohhh pancakes?"

Dean woke up. At first he was confounded. It was late, later then he usually got up in the morning, he knew because the room was bright with sunlight.

Then he was scared because Sammy was nowhere to be seen. Surely Sam would have woken him up to make breakfast.

Then he was confused again. When he threw back the blanket he found he was fully dressed.

Getting up from the bed he nearly fell, his bad knee didn't want to support him and his whole body was sore.

As he got his feet under him once more last night came rushing back to him and he felt it on his cheek.

Pop was home and just in time to save Sammy from the biggest mistake in Dean's young life. Dean rubbed the side of his face as his heart fell to the floor.

Pop had hit him because he had almost gotten Sammy killed.

Dean shuffled sorely to the door and peered into the next room. He breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Sammy seated at the table with a large bowl of oatmeal.

He shyed back from the door a little when he looked at his father seated across from Sammy. Pop was writing in his book and looking very serious.

John heard something in the other room and immediately his hunting instincts kicked in. He turned his head towards the noise and tensed for a fight.

There was no fight. John saw a very small Dean trying to make himself smaller as he peered out from behind the bedroom door. John berated himself he'd probably just scared the kid. How was he going to undo the new damage he'd caused?

"Dean r u up? Come and have some breakfast." John said as casually as he could. When the boy shrunk back further John tried again. "It's gonna get cold son, come join your brother and me."

Sammy stopped his spoon mid shovel to chime in. "Yeah come on Dean! Pop made lots of oatmeal and he even opened one of the jars of strawberry preserves Pastor Jim gave us to put on top!" Sam happily ate.

Dean still did not move. John was getting frustrated. "Dean, out here now that's an order."

Dean came on command and sat timidly down at the table as far from John and close to Sammy as he could get. He didn't look at John or Sam he just sat.

John placed a bowl in front of him. Dean looked at his bowl and then looked at Sammy's bowl once he was sure that Sammy had enough eat Dean dug into his devouring it unforgivingly.

* * *

John decided that he needed to train both boys now. Sammy needed to learn to be on his guard as well. He started Sam the same way he had started Dean, omitting the supernatural reason he was working the boys and focusing on the natural practical reason they needed to learn to track and shoot.

Sam was not as much of a natural when it came to shooting or track as his brother was but he was in his element it seemed when studying Latin or the new skill John was teaching the boys; how to pick locks.

John became less of a father and more a drill sergeant to his boys. He heard less and less of Sam calling him Poppa and more calling him Sir.

He was proud.

Then he heard about the war.

"John are you sure about this you have the boys to think about." Jim pointed out as John Winchester paced in his sitting room.

"I have thought about it Jim. You'll watch them for me won't you just till I get back."

"That's not the question the question is when will you get back and in what condition? John there isn't a draft on there's nothing that says you have to fight."

John glared at Jim. "That's a cowards approach, I've fought for my country before and I'll fight again. Now I know there's more danger then just shrapnel and guns. Jim there's a captain who's a hunter and he's putting together a regiment to well fight against the supernatural."

"what?"

"You know all those soldiers killed, buried in mass graves, there's gonna be a lot of angry spirits out east, some ones going to have to salt and burn them."

Jim thought for a second. "That's all well and good but what about the boys?"

John thought about it he'd be with a group of hunters he could learn a lot from. "This is for the boys."

John brought the boys to Jim's house after dark. Jim was shocked by how soldier like the boys had become. Both stood up straight and still. John spoke to them like an officer not a father. "You will behave yourselves, is that clear?"

"Yes sir." Came clearly out of Sam's mouth.

"Good." John then hugged both boys hugging Sam a little harder as Sam hugged him back.

"Good by sir, good luck." Sam said strongly.

Dean watched as John rode off under the light of the full moon. He didn't know when he'd see their Pop again.

This time he wouldn't fail, he would protect Sammy if it was the last thing he did.

TBC…

Thank you for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you too all the reviewers your words have been really encouraging.

**Faltered Chapter 8**

Jim and the Winchester boys sat at breakfast the next morning in stunned silence. Jim had kept the boys at his house before but not for a stay of undeterminable length. He hadn't even seen the boys for a number of months, John had asked that he stop coming out to the farm to teach the boys.

Jim wasn't angry he was just flustered.

"Boys the same rules apply as always. You get up at six help around the house. You go to bed at eight unless I say otherwise. You attend church on Sunday. You bath once a week. You mind your behavior and you are not to go in the cellar."

"Yes Sir." Sammy smartly responded. Dean nodded his head but did not quite look at Jim, he never did.

"Alright." Jim mused for a moment as the boys started to clear the dishes.

He had always seen Dean as damaged. He couldn't help labeling the boy.

Even after being his theology teacher for years Jim still imagined Dean as a child raised by wolves unable to communicate, to interact with his peers, to only do as commanded: sit, eat, sleep.

It made Jim feel guilty he knew Dean wasn't stupid, it was just he did not compare to Samuel who would surely be an advanced student.

Today they would find what both the boys were really capable of.

"Grab your hats boys we're going to see the school mistress." Jim stood up from the table.

"Really?!" Sammy asked excitedly. He'd always wanted to go to school with the other children in town, Pop had always said no.

Dean's expression didn't change, his eyes remained as serious as they were when John dropped the boys off the night before.

Jim found the intense expression it a bit unnerving.

"Yes, as my first act as your temporary guardian I'm going to see that you boys attend to school."

* * *

Dean never like going into town. Pop rarely ever brought them to town. Maybe he was like Dean and he didn't like the looks that the people into gave him.

Pastor Jim was walking Sam and him over to the school mistress's house. Dean could feel people looking at him as they passed on the sidewalk. Sammy didn't seem to notice, he was too excited about getting to go to school.

Dean didn't really want to go to school. He didn't see how it was important; he wanted to continue training like he had been with his Pop.

But if Sammy was going to school then Dean would go to school to watch out for him. How bad could it be anyway?

Jim stepped up the stairs ahead of the boys and knocked on the door to the small house that was next to the school. After a second, a little blonde hair girl no more than ten years old open it.

"Good morning Pastor." She greeted.

"Good morning Josephine is your mother about?" Jim inquired.

"Yes." Josephine opened the door wide so that the pastor and the boys could enter the house. "Mama the Pastor is here."

The school mistress came from the back of the house.

"Jim what brings you here?" She greeted warmly.

"Ellen…" Jim started but didn't get a chance to finish.

Dean saw the warmth go out of the woman's eyes and a cold stern look replace it. It worried him.

"Jo go to your room will you?"

"Yes mama."

Ellen turned and took her three visitors into her parlor where they all stood.

"What can I do for you Jim?" Ellen said intently.

"Well Ellen you see this is Samuel and his brother Dean."

"Yes the Winchester boys I know." Ellen did know, she had heard all about the eccentric John Winchester and his children.

"Yes well I would like them to attend your school." Jim said as pastorally as he could.

Ellen hitched her eyebrow a bit. She was a tough woman, she always had been. Sam stood close to his brother this woman made him nervous.

"Have they had any schooling before? Can they read and write?" Ellen had no idea what John Winchester had been doing with the boys way out on his farm she highly doubted that he was teaching the boys their multiplication tables.

"They can, you'll have to test them though to see at what level."

"Yes fine. Who is going to pay for them?" Ellen asked bluntly.

"Well I was hoping…" Jim put on his most charming smile

"That's what I thought." Ellen shook her head.

* * *

"Children we have two new students today. This is Dean and his brother Sam." Mrs. Ellen introduced the two Winchester boys who stood with her in the front of her classroom.

The students all started whispering to each other. They had all seen the two boys in town, had all heard their parents speak of them in hushed voices.

Ellen held each boy by the shoulder, she felt the younger of the two starting to tense while the older seemed to want to make himself as small as possible.

Ellen had tested both boys the day before, to see if they could read and write, add and subtracted. It was obvious from their tests that they had been taught. She was amazed because from what she'd seen John Winchester didn't seem to be the nurturing teaching type.

She had enjoyed meeting Samuel; he had bright eyes and a curious spirit. He reminded her of their mother. Mary had been one of Ellen's close friends growing up.

Dean was another story. Ellen knew all about what had happen to the boy, what had happened to Mary and their family.

Still sitting with him and trying to talk to him was heart wrenching. He didn't say a word to her didn't ask questions, didn't answer questions. He didn't look at her.

Ellen could have cried when she thought back to the first time she'd gone to see Mary and her new baby. He had been beautiful with lots of light hair and light eyes. Mary had been overcome with joy, even John had seemed wonderfully happy.

Ellen had gotten to hold the small baby and he'd yawned and stretched and fallen asleep in her arms comfortable and content with the world.

The boy in front of her was not comfortable, everything about him screamed discomfort from his posture to the way his eyes shifted never focusing on her even when she spoke to him.

Ellen couldn't help but wondering if he was capable of doing the work, but when she gave him the written test, he past. His handwriting was poor but legible. His writing was simple and his math crudely scratched out, but it was there and for the most part it was correct.

So now she was trying to ease both boys into the class as gently as possible.

"Go take the seats in the back boys." Sam led the way down the row of desks to the back where he and Dean took seats next to one another.

Sam was glad they were sitting in the back, that way he didn't have to feel like they were being watched.

He'd seen the kids all staring at them when they were upfront.

He didn't like feeling different.

Dean was so uncomfortable it was making his skin crawl. He sat huddled down in his seat trying to imagine being anywhere but with all of these strangers.

He wished he and Sammy could go back to their little home at the edge of the woods.

He wished he hadn't been such a failure then maybe Pop would have let them stay in at home.

Then they wouldn't have had to stay with Pastor Jim.

Then he would be sitting in a classroom with a bunch of strangers who stared at Sam and him.

"Here you go." A strange voice cut through Dean's thoughts and he looked up at where it was coming from. It was the little girl from the day before the school mistress's daughter.

"Mama said to give this too you." Josephine held out a slate board to him.

Dean looked over at Sam who was already writing on his own slate. Looking back to Josephine, Dean uncrossed his arms and accepted the board.

Then with a smile and a flash of her golden hair Josephine was gone.

Dean sat alone in the back of the classroom holding the gift he'd been given unsure of what he was suppose to do with it.

TBC…


	9. Chapter 9

**Faltered Chapter 9**

Dean seemed to limp slowly behind Sammy everyday as they head back to Pastor Jim's house after school, Sammy was always hurrying along talking excitedly over his shoulder to his less than enthusiastic brother.

It had only taken a day or two for Mrs. Ellen to realize that Sammy was the one of the brightest young students in the class and she began to assign him extra work that he accepted gratefully and loved to work on afterschool.

The lessons did not come as easily to Dean and he had not taken to school so well as Sammy had.

If it wasn't for Sammy, Dean would have quit school and probably left Lawrence to find his Pop.

School made him uncomfortable. There were too many other children and too many questions. He didn't like being focused on.

He was still tense about his experience with the all student spelling bee. Mrs. Ellen had not paid his apprehension any attention. She insisted that Dean participate with the rest of the children.

So Dean stood in line and waited his turn. He shook like a leaf he didn't want to be put on the spot. Sammy had stood in line behind him and tried to be encouraging. It had been Dean's turn and he stepped up for his word his heart ready to pound through his chest.

He was given soldier. He went to the chalk board like Mrs. Ellen had instructed him and in small faint shaky letters wrote S O L I D E R.

When Mrs. Ellen told him the word was incorrect he was mortified and when she told him to sit down he was utterly relieved.

He knew how to spell soldier and Dean knew that Sam knew he knew how to spell soldier the disappointment on his face made that clear.

Sammy liked school he was doing well and making friends. Dean sort of stood in Sam's shadow and tried to make it through the school day.

The other children had started picking on Dean as soon as he and Sammy started their first day.

They didn't like anyone that was different than them. Dean didn't even try to fit in and there didn't seem to be anything Sam could say or do to make the children change their mind.

Dean was a mystery to them. The other students had lived their whole lives in Lawrence.

They had heard stories of the Winchesters, who didn't come into town and didn't attend church. There were stories that the boy with a limp had been seen tracking animals in the woods like a little Indian scouts. It was said the father killed the mother and he could disappeared like a ghost when your back was turned.

Dean was the embodiment of the stories. Some of the children were scared of him, others found him a threat.

They picked up quickly on the fact that he wouldn't speak, no matter what they said or did to him he stayed silent. Sam had explained that it was on account of the fire that he couldn't but still the children called him a freak.

Then they picked on him because he didn't have to memorize and recite like the rest of them did in reading class. There were just certain things that Mrs. Ellen didn't even attempt to make Dean do. There was obviously no way he was going to stand up in class and recite anything. What the other children didn't see or didn't care about was that Dean was making up for it by writing what he'd memorized out.

It didn't matter in their eyes because he was still different.

Children could be cruel. Sam and Dean did not have much experience with children their own age, but they learned this lesson quick. Dean was a favorite target.

Sam swore after a while it was becoming a game with some of the nastier children to try and trip Dean up. Bella placed her basket and books on the floor next to her desk as Dean was walking by. Gordon liked to step on the back of Dean's heels and the Bender boy hit Dean in the shoulder whenever he past him.

They called him slow, gimpy, a tomnoddy.

Dean did nothing in his own defense.

It all infuriated Sam. The outcome was the last thing Dean wanted, it alienated of both of them.

Sammy tried to encourage Dean to be normal. He had a couple of times asked Dean to sit up and pay attention in class instead of staring off into space. He'd tried to get Dean to play trap ball with some of the other kids but Dean wouldn't play. He'd pleaded with Dean to try and not embarrass him.

Dean was hurt. Sammy was ready to not be a soldier with him anymore.

* * *

Jim was excited that Samuel was doing so well in school. He'd always known that the boy would succeed in an academic setting.

But Jim saw every Sunday after church what a toll Dean's attending school was having on both of the brothers. Dean often followed Sam and after church when the children all went out to play. Dean always tagged along. Sam had made some friends who he liked to play ball with. Dean never played with them he always stood by and watched, like he was Sam's guardian ever wary in a strangely unfocused way.

Jim knew Dean had taken this role on when both of the boys were very small.

He noticed more and more though that Sam was keeping an eye on Dean. This had never been the way it was; Samuel had always been carefree when Dean was around. Now Samuel seemed preoccupied with worrying about his brother.

Jim wondered who would be hurt by this in the long run.

One day both boys got home from school in a state of shambles. Sam had blood on his lip and Dean's cheek was bruised.

Jim inquired what had happened. The most he got from an angry Sammy and a silent Dean as he interrogated them was that there had been a fight after school. He never found out what the fight was about but he had his suspicions.

All the scuffles the boys seemed to get into seemed to be because of Dean.

The boys were sent to bed without dinner as punishment.

Jim prayed that night that things would get easier for the boys like he prayed every night. His prayer always ended with "Please Lord give these boys a place and home in the world where they both can thrive and be champions for your light and goodness Amen."

Late this particular night when the boys had been sent to bed early Jim heard a strange noise coming from the boy's room. It was dark but not so dark that Jim couldn't see when he opened the door. Samuel was clearly asleep on the bed but Dean was seated on an old wooden chair near the window.

Jim watched as the boy made strange faces in the glass.

Jim shivered as it reminded him of something he seen many years ago another child's face distorted strangely.

Shaking himself he came to realize that Dean was not making faces at the glass but trying to form words with his mouth.

Jim had never thought he see the day when Dean Winchester spoke but there the boy was making a go of it.

"Dean?" Jim asked softly through the darkness. Dean jumped and turned in Jim's direction as he did Jim could make out the wetness of his eyes in the moonlight.

"Dean come with me."

Jim discovered while he sat with Dean downstairs that whatever had happened during the day presumably what had caused the fight had so upset Dean that the boy seemed to be bound and determined to do whatever he could to correct it. If Sammy wanted normal Dean would do his best to give it to him.

"Dean can you talk?" Jim asked sincerely. Dean didn't look at him but shrugged his shoulders.

"You don't know…" Jim thought for a moment Dean had spoken just after the fire so it stood to reason that he hadn't lost the capacity in the fire. But since then Dean hadn't made a sound and Jim thought that if Dean hadn't used his voice he might have lost it all together.

"Can you make any sound?" Jim watched as dean opened his mouth and nothing came out. "You're not doing it right. You don't just open your mouth you have to make the sound."

Jim sat with Dean for the next two hours trying to get the boy to make a sound. Finally they were both exhausted. Jim sent the boy to bed and then added further to his prayer for the Winchesters. "Lord may you watch after them and protect them always on this rough road they walk."

Every couple of nights for the next month Dean tried in the dark to talk. Eventually he found his voice. It was weak and rough but it was there.

Dean knew it would make everything better.

**TBC…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Falter Chapter 10**

Sammy had lived with his brother all his life. He knew that people saw Dean as odd maybe even crazy. Sammy had never seen it that way. Dean was special.

Sure he wouldn't play ball with Sam and the other boys but Sam knew his brother was always watching his back. Whenever one of the other boys pestered Sam, his brother was always ready to step in and shield Sam.

Sure it was a little annoying when Dean ate lunch because he didn't use manners and offended the other children but Sam knew if he was hungry that Dean would give him everything he had.

And Sam knew that Dean didn't speak to anyone. But Dean wrote to Sam.

That was the way it had always been. Sammy liked it that way.

Today started no different than any other Dean followed Sam to school. When Sammy stopped to throw pebbles into puddles with Andy, Dean stopped too but he just stood back and sort of watched until Sam and Andy continued on their way to school.

Once inside the school house it was understood that when Sam sat down Dean would sit down. The only people who really spoke to Dean anymore were Mrs. Ellen and Sam. The other students really weren't interested in Dean anymore except to rib him occasionally for kicks.

This day Gordan had decided it was a good day to pick on Dean.

Dean was standing behind his younger brother as Sammy talked to Zachery and Rebecca about the book they were reading when Gordan came up behind him and knocked the books out from under Dean's arm.

The books fell to the floor with a thud. Gordan chuckled. Sammy turned around and looked back at his taller older brother. He saw something on Dean's face he really hadn't seen before. Not so openly, so expressively.

It was annoyance.

Dean's emotion didn't usually cross his face so blatantly. Sammy was a bit taken aback.

Dean bent down uncomfortably to retrieve his books off the floor.

"Sorry about that Winchester. That was my fault." Gordan said with a smirk as he bent down also. Sammy watched as Gordan nudged Dean over onto his bad knee as he pretended to be helpful.

Dean grimaced and then groaned.

Sammy nearly missed it, and then didn't believe his ears. No one else seemed to notice.

Gordan was continuing to talk being his obnoxious self. Sam didn't hear what he was saying he was focused on Dean.

He helped his brother stand and took the books without thanks from Gordan.

"You're welcome." Gordan hissed as the Winchester boys took their seats in the back of the classroom.

Sammy was distracted all day in fact Mrs. Ellen even called his name without him noticing he was so preoccupied with Dean.

There didn't seem to be anything outwardly different with his brother. He had the same far off look, the same disconnected air. Sam could have sworn that for a minute Dean had connected and it had had nothing to do with him. Usually when Dean took an active role in what was going on around him it was because of something that was happening to Sam but not this time.

Sam thought hard and decided that maybe he'd been mistaken the sound it had to have come from someone else.

Still he couldn't help but watch his brother, something wasn't the same and Sam wanted to know what.

For a week nothing new or out of the ordinary happened.

Then one day Mrs. Ellen's students all settled back into their seats after lunch. She stood in the front of the class and waited for everyone's attention except of course Dean Winchester's.

Try as she might she had yet to receive his complete attention. She'd given up calling him out and scolding him he didn't listen. She'd decided as long as he sat in the back and was quiet so as not to disturb the other children she would let him be.

"I would like the older children to take out their history books and write three sentences on Martha Washington, which we will..." Mrs. Ellen began to explaining when she was startled by the town's alarm bell sounding.

Voices outside the classroom started yelling about a fire.

As Ellen's attention shifted from them to outside most of the students got up and ran to the windows to see what was happening.

"Get back in your seats now." Mrs. Ellen commanded.

Sam excited like the rest of the students disappoint went back to his desk. Sam looked over at his brother. Dean hadn't gotten up in the commotion.

In fact Dean sat with his hands gripping the desk in front of him and his eyes squeezed tight. Sam leaned over and shook his brother by the shoulder.

"Dean, hey." Sam said in a hushed voice.

Some of the children began to cough as the smell of smoke drifted into the school house.

To Sam's horror Dean started shaking his head, and rocking in his chair. He'd never seen his brother do this before.

Sam got up and knelt by Dean's side. "Dean what are you doing?"

Then Sam heard it very faintly and he noticed his brother's mouth moving. He just couldn't quite make out what Dean was trying to say.

The alarm bell kept ringing. "Sam get back in your seat." Mrs. Ellen yelled over the noise.

"I can't Ma'ma, my brother..." Ellen looked at Dean, he seemed to be having a fit.

She didn't have time to address it one of the deputies came in to the classroom. "Mrs. Ellen we need you to get the children out of here. Old Mr. Murdoch's house is burning and the whole town is in danger."

The children all got looks of horror on their faces, some of the girls started crying. Nothing was helped by the fact that Dean Winchester sat in the back of the classroom rocking, and murmuring with his hands now over his ears like a lunatic.

"Alright Children line up, now." Ellen called. Sam was starting to panic. Dean didn't seem to be hearing anything anyone was saying.

"Dean we have to go." Sam tried tugging on his brother's arm.

"Dean, Dean come on." Dean didn't budge. Sam was getting mad. "Dean we have to leave now. Come on Dean! Dean you're scaring me."

Dean stopped and looked in Sam's eyes. "Come on Dean."

Sam kept hold of Dean's arm as he hurried him out of the building and after the rest of the class. Mrs. Ellen led them out of town away from the fire as men rushed around with buckets of water and axes.

Dean tried to keep up with his brother Sammy was dragging him hard to kept up with the rest of the children. His eyes were watering and his lungs burned. He stumbled and tripped unable to run like his brother wanted to.

The class joined the other town's people who had evacuated in a field just out of harm's way. Some of the children clung to their mothers. Some of them watched the men trying to put out the fire like it was a sporting event.

The Winchester boys sat down in the grass, Dean was red faced and blurry eyed. He was trying hard not to cry. Sam didn't know what was happening to Dean but he wasn't happy about it. So Sam just sat beside him, their shoulders touching, not talking.

Dean watched the flames and the smoke as they rose. They terrified him. He kept repeating in his head over and over…keep Sammy safe.

He trembled and felt Sam's shoulder next to his.

It seemed like forever before the fire was out but eventually it was and people started returning to their homes. Mrs. Ellen dismissed the class, and started to head home with her own daughter Josephine.

In all the commotion she nearly forgot the Winchester boys. She told Josephine to wait and she turned around.

They were sitting together not paying much attention to anyone else. Sam stared at the town and seemed to be thinking very hard. Dean was focused on something no one else could see. Ellen went and got them.

"Come on boys lets go back." Sam nodded and stood up.

Dean didn't move until Sam took his arm and pulled him up. Ellen walked them back into town.

That night Pastor Jim sat at dinner with the boys and knew something had definitely wrong. Ellen had brought the boys to him and explained the episode that Dean had had in a very hushed manor.

Jim understood that it was very serious but the boy seemed better so Jim was obliged to regard it as a onetime occurrence. Some sort of waking nightmare triggered by the fire.

Now though as the boys sat across from each other at the table Samuel glared in Dean's direction.

"Dean, go get ready for bed." Jim instructed the boy putting in his tone the sense of an order that the boy responded best to.

Dean did as he was told getting up from the table, clearing his dishes and heading up stairs. He looked exhausted after the days ordeal.

Sam sat at the table looking mad at the world.

"Samuel what's the matter?" Jim prompted.

Sam sat up straight as he was addressed. "Nothing Sir."

Jim didn't believe him for a minute. "Are you mad at Dean?"

"What?" Sam turned to Jim with a look of innocent confusion.

"You've been glaring in his general direction all evening."

"I'm not mad…" Sam started slowly as if trying to figure something out in his head. "Dean just, I don't know, scared me today. I didn't like it."

"That's understandable being scared for your brother. But that's no reason to glare at him."

"Yes well he didn't just scare me he scared the other children. It was embarrassing. Now they'll never leave him alone. They'll pick on us without mercy. How am I suppose to deal with that?"

"I'm sure they won't" Jim tried to reassure Sam even though he wasn't sure himself.

"They will." Sam corrected the older man. "And you know what else."

Jim shook his head. "No what?"

"He can talk, I heard him today he kept saying my name over and over again." Sammy folded his arms and looked cross. Jim was astonished.

"You heard him?"

"He was whispering, but I knew what he said. Why would he lie about being able to talk Pastor Jim, doesn't he know that lying is a sin."

Jim didn't know how to answer that. Had Dean really spoken?

"Samuel if your brother spoke it was surely a miracle not a sin."

The next day the boys came home from school. Sammy stomped into the house and ran upstairs. Dean stood in the doorway and looked crestfallen.

Jim looked at the young man "Did something happen at school today?" Jim had a feeling the other children weren't going to make things easy for the boys just as Sam had predicted.

Dean nodded.

"Is Sammy upset with you?"

Dean looked more dejected if that was possible. Jim changed the subject.

"Did he ask you if you could talk?" Jim asked seriously and Dean nodded solemnly.

"And can you?"

Dean nodded "yes sir."

Jim smiled. "That's wonderful Dean."

Dean nodded.

TBC…

Thank you too all the reviews, double thanks to those who have review more than once. I really appreciate it and I'm glad people are enjoying the story I'm enjoying writing it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Faltered Chapter 11**

"Won't you please reconsider Ellen?" Jim was pleading with the school teacher for his charge.

"No Pastor I can't, it's been a hard decision but I've made up my mind. "

Jim was devastated by the verdict. "If it's a discipline problem I can get him straightened out Ellen."

"It's not that, Jim, it's not Dean. It's just things before weren't perfect you know but after the fire the other children well they're scared of him. His presence has been a constant disruption in my classroom ever since. They gawk at him and pick at him, tease him and his Samuel."

"They're just children Ellen their interest will wane eventually." Dean had been working so hard recently. All he wanted was to please Sam.

"Jim it's been three and a half months and it's only gotten worse. He's a sweet boy but I really think the school is not the best place for him."

"Ellen he deserve an education just like any of the others."

"Yes well the other children have parents who are paying." Ellen caught herself. "I'm sorry Jim that was uncalled for. It, it's just that I'm so frustrated. That poor boy he does virtually nothing to defend himself, and Samuel who would be a model student keeps getting into fights on account of Dean. I just can't have that Jim." She shook her head.

"I gave both Sam and Dean tests in math and reading when you brought them to me to determine how far along they were in their schooling, they both passed, which is amazing considering they were raised by John Winchester. Jim there probably is not much more I could teach him anyway."

Jim was silent for a moment trying to think about how he should handle all this.

Ellen spoke again before he could. "When we were young I loved Mary like a sister, I was sad to see her marry John man, he seemed beneath her. There was something about him that never set right with me. But those boys are Mary's boys Jim and I want what's best for them. I don't want Dean hurt anymore." With that Ellen excused herself and left Jim to his thoughts.

Jim's thought's led him into town and to Bobby Singer's doorstep.

"He's a smart kid Bobby he'd make a good apprentice." Jim tried to sell the Gunsmith the idea of taking Dean on as a student.

"Why doesn't he stay in school then?" Bobby pushed his hat up a little and scratched at his forehead.

"I would have kept him in school but Mrs. Ellen says that she's taught him all she can. She says he's smart Bobby he just doesn't get along real well with the other children." Jim sugarcoated it the best he could.

"Anyway I figured maybe learning a trade of his own would be good for the boy. Set him on the path to God you know." Pastor Jim smiled at the other man, who eyed him suspiciously.

He would be taking a chance if he took Dean Winchester on as an apprentice.

Bobby didn't want to refuse the Pastor but the kid was definitely a charity case that Bobby didn't see amount to anything.

He knew John Winchesters, he'd turned out to be a fine hunter, Bobby knew he'd been a fine blacksmith before his wife had died.

Even if the boy knew anything about blacksmithing gunsmithing was a bit more delicate art.

Bobby had seen the boy around town and he didn't look like much. In fact Bobby'd heard the kid was sickly and didn't talk.

He wasn't sure how he was suppose to work with the boy or what he could do for him and he told Pastor Jim so.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration Bobby, the boy's been through some tough times and he doesn't say a whole lot but that should suit you fine." In the past few months all the words Dean had uttered could be counted on two hands. Still that was an improvement

"Alright Pastor" Bobby relented. "You have him here tomorrow morning by seven, I'll keep him till supper. If it goes well I'll take him on. If it doesn't well maybe there's a place for him down at the stables or over at the mill." Bobby pulled his hat down low, he knew he'd probably just got himself into something.

"Thank you Bobby that's very christian of you, Thank you." Bobby rolled his eyes and the pastor hurried off before the Gunsmith could change his mind.

* * *

"You should have just belted him one in the eye, dumb old Gordan." Sam huffed as he walked a few steps ahead of his brother. Sam was frustrated again like he was most days now when he and Dean got back from school.

They went into Jim's house through the back door.

"Good afternoon boys." Sam stopped dead in his tracks, Dean bumped into the back of Sam and stumbled to a stop grimacing. The Pastor was not usually waiting for them in the kitchen when they got there in the afternoon.

"Good afternoon Pastor Jim." Sam smiled innocently. Dean looked up for a second and then focused back down at the floor.

"How was your day boys. Come here and sit down." Jim sat at the head of the kitchen table and indicated to the two empty chairs. The boys did as they were told taking seats across the table from one another.

"Boys I talked to your teacher today." Both Winchesters got solemn looks on their faces. "Why didn't you tell me you were having so much trouble with the other students?"

Sam got very serious even a bit defensive. "It's nothing we can't handle."

"Well the way you handled it, with the fighting and the disruptions has upset Mrs. Ellen. She's well... she has decided that Dean can't come back to school." Jim announced unceremoniously, there was no point in drawing it out.

"What!? No..."The nine year old got upset.

Jim thought Dean looked distraught over the news.

Sam continued to be outraged. "She can't do that can she?"

Jim looked sadly at the boys. "She can. It's her school. She was gracious enough to teach you boys for free, but she says Dean is too much of a disruption in the class."

"It's not his fault that the other kids are mean to him." It really wasn't Dean hadn't done anything on purpose, he couldn't help what happened to him.

"Dean..." Pastor Jim placed a hand on the older boy's arm and ignored when the boy flinched back a little.

"I talked to Mr. Singer today and he's agreed to try you out as an apprentice over at his shop." Dean turned to Jim and Jim thought he saw a hint of a smile before it faded and he turned to his brother.

"Sammy..." Sam instinctively knew what Dean was asking.

"I'll be alright Dean if you are." Sam conceded.

Dean was torn, he needed to be able to look after Sammy, but maybe Sammy would be better off without him.

Dean didn't seem to have much choice in the matter.

* * *

Pastor Jim hurried Dean through the streets of Lawrence down to Singer's Gunsmithing.

The boy was dragging his feet. He wasn't very happy about being separated from his brother.

"Don't worry Dean, Bobby may come off as gruff but I've known him for a while now and he's a good man." Jim stopped them out in front of the shop, "Alright stand up straight, and be respectful." Jim reminded the boy, even though he didn't know if it would do any good. Dean just looked nervous.

"You'll do fine and you'll see Sam later." Dean's eyes didn't quite reach the Pastors but he nodded.

"Alright Dean." Jim opened the door and stepped into the small shop, Dean followed after him.

"Morning Bobby." Jim called to the back of the shop. The other man came down the stairs.

"Morning." He grumbled back, coffee in hand. Making his way through the shop's tables and shelves Bobby set his coffee down on his work bench and came to get a good look at Dean.

"Morning boy." Bobby stopped in front of Dean.

Dean didn't look up at him but after a second, a second that Jim held his breath, he replied. "Good morning Sir." Bobby looked to Jim who smiled with relief.

"Well then I'll be going now, I have work to do. Dean I'll see you back at the house tonight. Bobby, thank you." Jim back up to the door and was gone.

Dean tensed up a bit, which threatened to cause Bobby to tense up. But the older man caught himself and relaxed.

"So boy did your daddy teach you to shoot?" Dean nodded.

"What was that?" Bobby eyed the kid.

Dean raised his head and then his eyes and then his eyes found Bobby's and Bobby was taken aback by the intensity that hadn't been there before.

"Yes, Sir. He did."

**TBC…**


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you for your reviews and Thank you for reading!

**Faltered Chapter 12**

Bobby spent the morning showing Dean around the shop. It was cluttered but Bobby had a system he needed to make sure his future apprentice knew where he kept things and how he expected things to be kept.

"You need to make sure this jar is closed when it ain't being used." Bobby put the jar of cleaner he was holding back on the work bench between the empty water kettle and a can of ashes.

"This here's wood ash," He pointed to the can "it's good for polishing. Some people bring their guns here for a real good cleaning for that I use brick dust it's more abrasive."

Bobby looked around the shop for what to show the boy next.

His eyes fell on the closed and locked door at the back of the room and Dean's followed.

"You see that door back there? You're not to go in there, understand." Bobby said very seriously. He thought of all the things that were behind the door that no one should ever have to see.

Dean nodded but Bobby wasn't looking at him to see.

"You understand me boy?" Bobby said gruffly over his shoulder.

"Y-yes Sir." Dean affirmed verbally.

"Good, come on upstairs and we'll get something to eat." Bobby's features quickly lightened and he led the way.

The upstairs was modest and not quite so cluttered as the downstairs. Bobby cleared papers off of the kitchen table and moved the books off one of the chair before offering it to Dean.

Dean sat and graciously accepted the bread and cheese that was given to him along with a tin cup of milk.

Bobby joined Dean at the table and they both ate.

Eventually Bobby decided it was time to get back to the matter at hand.

"As my apprentice you'll do chores for me, mostly cleaning and fetching things. In return I'll teach you my trade. It will be hard work make no mistake." Dean sat across from him and seemed to listening, but he wasn't making eye contact which made Bobby nervous. "I need you to look at me boy."

Dean pulled his eyes away from his lunch and tried hard to focused on the man in front of him even though his thoughts kept wondering back to Sammy.

"Do you understand what I'm asking of you?" Dean nodded sincerely. Bobby took that was a good sign.

"Alright now I don't mean to be nosey boy but are you in pain, I mean does that gimp leg of yours hurt you?" Bobby really didn't want to pry but since the boy was going to work for him it was his business. He didn't want to ask something of the boy that he couldn't do.

Dean's hand fell down to its familiar spot on top of his bad knee. Bobby watched as something akin to shame flashed in the young boys eyes.

"It's nothing to be upset about boy. You've lived with it for a long time a lot better than some would." Bobby said honestly not everyone could manage pain.

"I just need to know what you can and can't do. I mean to say if I asked you to bring a bucket of water up the stairs there would you be able to." Dean looked at the stairs for a moment and then back. Bobby saw what he thought was determination on Dean's face.

"If I needed you to turn kegs of gunpowder could you do it?" The look on the boy's face answered that and every other question Bobby had. Goodness the boy had an intensity that reminded Bobby of John Winchester.

"Yes Sir I can."

"Alright Alright son, we will find out soon enough. You just need to let me know and you don't have to call me Sir, Bobby is just fine."

Dean didn't know how to respond to that so he nodded and gulped the last of the milk in his cup.

They cleared the table and headed back downstairs after their lunch.

Bobby talked more about his shop and his work. He was watching the boy the whole time. He was studying Dean. He wanted to get a good understanding of the boy. It was difficult he was a hard person to read. Bobby had always prided himself on being a quick and accurate judge of a person.

The boy reminded him of an old shell shocked war veteran Bobby had met once while working a job down south. Dean had the same world weariness about him.

But when Bobby talked about the work and the guns Dean perk right up, he seemed willing to work. Ready to take direction.

Bobby liked the kid.

Bobby finished showing Dean the last of his wrenches. "Well I think that's enough of me talking for now." The gunsmith grabbed a pistol and a handful of bullets.

"Let's go see what your Daddy taught you."

* * *

It was dark as Dean walked down the street alone, the wooden planks of the sidewalk giving off the cadence of his uneven gate in the quiet evening. He was tired but content. It had been a good day, much better than he expected.

As Dean neared Pastor Jim's house it was lit up. It looked warm and inviting, more so than it ever had before.

Dean had barely gotten in the door when the questions started flying.

"How was it Dean?" Sam asked his older brother tentatively.

The Pastor and Sam waited, they had both been waiting all day to see how it went. Dean looked up at them and smiled. It wasn't a huge smile but it was there and Jim swore it was the first time he'd ever seen the boy do that.

After they'd eaten, Jim went and saw Bobby. Both men were equally excited.

"Thank you Bobby whatever you did. Thank you."

Bobby set down the pistol he was cleaning. "Jim why didn't you tell me the boy knew guns?"

"He does?"

"Hell yes he does, that boy bulls eyed every bottle I set up. He's a natural if I ever saw one." Bobby impressed the excitement of the discovery on Jim.

"Well I've never seen him...yes I did see him shoot once, John was teaching him back before he left. " Jim remember John was teaching the boy a lot of things he didn't think Ellen covered in her class. "Well if that's what it takes. Bobby he was smiling, I've never seen him do that. As long as I was visiting those boys out at the farm or had them at my place he's never. I bet he's not smiled like that since his mama died." Jim revealed soberly. he had been worried but now he was sure this was the best thing for the boy.

"Well I think he's going to work out here, so you send him here with his clothes and things, he can stay here during the week and visit you and his brother on Sunday, I've got a spare room upstairs that he can have." Bobby started thinking about what he was going to need to do to that spare room livable.

"Bobby you're a saint, God Bless you." Jim shook the other man's hand vigorously.

"Well don't saint me too soon now, Jim. He hasn't made it thru the week yet."

* * *

Bobby opened the spare bedroom that Dean Winchester would use. Bobby almost laughed at the thought he wondered what that old hunter John would think of Dean staying with him.

The room was the smallest room in the house and the other rooms weren't very big. There was an old wooden bed in the center of it with a small table and a wordrobe Bobby had made himself standing in one corning . Setting his oil lamp down Bobby looked around. It had been fifteen years since he'd stood in the room and really looked around. Since then he'd mostly left the door closed not even using the room to store his ever growing book and relic collections.

The room was going to need a lot of work if someone was going to live in it.

Everything was covered in a layer of dust. Bobby sat down heavy on the bed that was still made after all those years and had until that moment been undisturbed. The dust plumed around him, the particles swimming in the lamp light.

Bobby sighed. The room was a reminder of what his life had become.

empty.

He sat a long while until the lamp's wick burnt down and the oil burnt out.

Tomorrow things would change. Tomorrow the room wouldn't be empty.

**TBC....**


	13. Chapter 13

Faltered Chapter 13

Dean Winchester walked through the door at just a minute past seven the next morning. Bobby looked up and closed the book he had been studying.

The thin boy stood in the doorway hat in his hand and a bag over his shoulder that contained everything he owned in the world. He did not look happy.

"Morning." Bobby greeted the tired looking young man.

Dean sighed. Jim had gotten him up this morning after he hadn't slept most of the night because he was so anxious and told him he had to pack his things because he was going to live with Bobby. No one had said anything about leaving Sam for that long. During the day was one thing. Dean had accepted that it was for the best. He needed to give Sammy his space.

He had not agreed to leave Sammy alone at night. Bad things came out at night. He didn't want to leave Sammy with no protection.

He would have protested if he thought it would have made any difference. Everyone else but him seemed to think him living at the gunsmith's shop was a great idea.

Sammy didn't seem to be worried.

Sammy didn't know what was out there in the dark.

"I said follow me boy." Bobby repeated himself a little louder. Dean hadn't seemed to be listening the first time he was thinking hard about something. The expression on his face was pained. "Come on you can put your stuff up stairs." Dean conceded and followed.

"This will be your room." Bobby said opening the door to the spare room.

Dean's awful expression worsened Bobby misinterpreted the reason. "I know it's not much, kinda small, but it is clean." Bobby apologized. He had taken the time to clean the place up that hadn't made it any bigger.

Dean set his bag down on the bed and nodded sadly to Bobby. It was too much. Dean had never had a room to himself, a bed he didn't have to share.

Bobby wasn't sure what he was seeing, he didn't know what had changed between yesterday and today and he didn't know how to fix it. "You'll stay here during the week and you'll go to church on Sunday like always because the Pastor says you have too." Bobby tried to reassure the boy that being there wasn't going to be horrible. "If you want you can stay Sunday nights at the Pastor's with your brother."

Dean looked up at the mention of his brother.

Bobby figured maybe that's what the boy's problem was he'd seen him with his brother before they were practical attached at the hip. "You know I've known Jim for a lot of years now, I think your brother will be in good hands with him."

Dean looked at Bobby skeptically. "I know you're the big brother and it's your job to look out for him but maybe you need to spend some time apart. This will be kinda like a test for both of you." Dean still looked miserable but Bobby had run out of encouraging things to say and he didn't have the time to think of more. When all else fails it's time to get to work.

"Let's get moving, there's lot's to be done." Bobby pulled his hat down and left the boy.

Dean didn't unpack his things instead he put the bag under the bed. If this was a test like some kind of training then he was not willing to fail. He joined the gunsmith down in the shop ready to work.

Bobby hadn't been lying when he said it would be hard work. Dean had never been scared of a little hard work. He did carry buckets of water up the stairs. They were heavy and it was awkward but he managed not to spill too much. He did whatever Bobby told him.

He'd sat with Bobby at the work bench and held an 1861 Springfield.

"What are the three basic parts of the gun boy?" Bobby quizzed.

Dean cleared his throat, he'd known this since he was seven. "The lock, the stock, and the barrel." pointing to each part in turn.

"Good, do you know why they call it the lock?" Bobby produced a lock that he'd taken out of a rifle the day before.

"No sir." He shook his head as Bobby grimaced at being called sir. Dean had found himself unable to address Bobby 'Bobby', it just wasn't in him.

"Because as the firing mechanism got more complicated and compact, the only craftsmen with tools small and delicate enough to make them were locksmiths."

Dean looked with fascination at the springs and screws Bobby held in his hand.

"Of course now there are gunsmiths." Bobby put the lock down and took the rifle from Dean's hands. "Do you know the difference between a rifle and musket?"

Dean nodded his head, of course he knew that. Bobby wasn't satisfied. "Well what's the difference?"

Dean blinked at the man then thought a moment. "A musket is a smoothbore gun it's the predecessor to the rifle. A rifle has groves or rifling that help's it propel a minie ball more accurately longer distances."

Bobby smiled and squinted at the boy. "My god he's got a brain and a tongue who would have thought it."

At the end of the day Dean was exhausted. He ate what Bobby put in front of him at supper, didn't say anything but neither did Bobby. As soon as the plates were cleared he went back to his room. It was dark but Dean would never have considered lighting a candle anyway there was no need. He sat down and kicked his boots off and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Sam's day had been uneventful. He'd gone to school for the second time without Dean. It had felt odd like he was forgetting something all day. He liked that He didn't have to worry about any of the kids messing with Dean. It was a weight off his shoulders. Still a nagging feeling pestered him.

When he'd gotten home he hadn't felt much like talking Pastor Jim did enough for both of them. Sam ate dinner, did his school work and headed to bed. Their room seemed big and empty without Dean there. Sam couldn't fall asleep, it was too light out so instead he sat at the window in the room and tried to read a book. When the Sun was down and the moon came up, Sam still didn't feel like sleeping. He lit a candle and sat it on the window sill. He looked out the window straining his eyes in the darkness and tried to make out the Gunsmith's shop. He'd never really looked for it before. He probably could have seen it during the day but now it was too dark. He wondered if Dean was asleep.

Eventually Sam did get tired and he knew if he stayed up much later he would be too tired tomorrow so he blew out the candle and crawled into bed and under the blanket.

Dean woke with a start as a breeze slipped under the window sending shivers down his spine and causing his leg to ache. Grabbing at the blanket, he slowly realized he was lying on it and not under. He moved and pulled the blanket over him to block the breeze. Suddenly Dean panicked. Sammy wasn't there next to him. Looking around the dark room his blurry eyes could make out was unfamiliar to him. His brother was nowhere to be seen. Thoughts crossed his mind 'where was Sammy' 'where was he' 'should he get up and look' but he was too tired and sore to think about it. He slipped back to sleep before answering any of the questions.

Sammy slept comfortably he usually did. He'd always had Dean watching over him like a guardian angel. There had been more than one time that Sam had woken up at their house or Pastor Jim's that he found Dean awake and watching. He had never questioned why.

In the early morning Dean's pleasant oblivion took a turn for the worse. He smelled smoke. That was always how the dream started with the smell of phantom smoke. Then he heard the screaming high pitched and ear piercing. There was heat and flames. Something was chasing him and he didn't know what it was. He was running. His father and mother were there and he was screaming for them to help him but no one seemed to hear. Sammy was there, he was the only one who Dean could touch everyone else was always just out of reach. He ran. He tried to save his mother but she was devoured before his eyes. He held tight to Sammy his father was always just behind them or just in front of them.

Then Dean knew, he felt the thing, the monster getting closer. He wasn't fast enough. The monster was there, Pop disappeared. Sammy was in danger….

Dean woke with a start for the second time that night. He was out of breath and all he could think about was Sammy being in danger. He wanted to get up he wanted to go to Sammy.

He didn't, he fought his every instinct as they tore him apart.

It was a test. Like Bobby said.

His pop had always said good soldiers are strong and brave. A Good Soldier would never go off half cocked because of a dream. A good soldier could pass any challenge he faced...

Dean laid awake in the dim early morning like he had many times over the years only this time he had no safe Sammy sleeping by his side to reassure him that everything was alright.

**TBC…**

this was a hard chapter to write I hope it does it's job.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's note: In this chapter a fictional sermon is presented for entertainment purposes only. I do not wish to offend anyone. There is only one view presented in this sermon for the purpose of the story. It can be totally skipped without the reader missing anything.

**Faltered chapter 14**

Dean stood on the steps of the church waiting. He was early, he'd been so eager to see Sammy that he'd woken up fast, rushed to get dressed, and hurried to the church.

His brother was nowhere to be seen.

Dean hadn't noticed the chill in the air in his hast to get to the church. Now that he was waiting on the steps and had time to look around he felt it and buried his hands in the pockets of his thread bare old coat. It was a clear spring morning. It would probably be a nice day when the sun got high.

At the moment in the cold the street was empty. It wouldn't be in fifteen minutes time. Nearly everyone in town would be at the church or heading there.

Dean leaned against the wooden railing. Sammy and he had been living in town for almost a year. Dean thought it seemed longer since their pop had left. The whispers of the town's people had died down a bit. But Dean still felt people looking at him. He never felt comfortable at church with the whole town. It seemed like they were all sitting behind him staring.

If he thought it would be an option he would have asked Pastor Jim if he could not go. It wasn't an option and Sammy really liked church. Sammy never seemed to be fazed by all the people. Sammy liked sitting through the sermons and learning about God. Dean had heard the stories. For years Jim had been preaching at him trying to drill every book and chapter into his head. Sammy and Jim hadn't seen what Dean had seen.

Dean moved down a step as the front door of the church opened and Pastor Jim stepped outside. "Good morning Dean." Jim warmly greeted after his momentary shock at finding Dean on the steps. "What are you doing standing out here?" Jim smiled at him.

Dean shrugged in reply and stayed quiet. He was waiting of course. He knew that the pastor prepared for his sermons early in the morning before church and Dean hadn't wanted to interrupt. Besides he was waiting there for someone.

"Sammy?" Dean asked. He looking around, he had thought maybe his brother would be with Jim. Sammy liked to accompany Jim to the church on Sunday mornings.

"The Warrens invited Samuel for breakfast this morning." Jim saw the panic that past behind Dean's eyes and Jim moved to distract the thirteen year old.

"He'll be here soon. Come inside Dean." Jim ushered the boy into the church and up to the front. Dean looked back over his shoulder he would rather wait for Sammy outside.

Jim noticed that Dean's limp seemed a little deeper than usual and he seemed a bit tired. "How was your first week Dean?"

Dean stood with the pastor in the church and answered honestly. "Good."

It had been a long week of hard work, but it had been good. Dean liked working it made him feel useful.

"That's wonderful." The pastor smiled again. Dean had noticed he did that a lot on Sundays.

People started to file in and Pastor Jim excused himself to greet the others. Dean stood in the front of the church and waited.

Sammy finally made it, the church had filled up and Dean had really started to worry. "Morning Dean." Was all Sammy had the chance to say before everyone was asked to find a seat and the sermon started.

"Today we will be discussing the apostle Thomas. What we really know of Thomas is what we have in the book of John. I am certain you are familiar with John 24 'now Thomas (called Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. 25So the other disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord!" But he said to them, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it."' What have we learned from this passage? That Thomas has doubts that the other apostles have seen Jesus risen from the dead, we all know that. What we do not learn from the passage is why. I would like to present to you a theory.

The name Thomas some of you may know means twin. But what does this mean, that this grown man's name is twin? Well after thinking about it I believe that it means that this man had a brother. A brother who was maybe born first or perhaps was the parent's favorite of the siblings. They liked him so much better that they named him and called the other child his brother, his twin. Now here's my question to you: how would you feel if your whole life you were your brother's brother never given any name of your own? How would you go through life? Would you start to doubt your own worth? Ask yourself would you be able to trust others if you always lived in the shadow of your brother? Should we fault Thomas for needing to see to believe? No it is not his faith in Jesus that is waiving. He is grieving. We have all grieved for a loved one before…"

Sammy sat listening intently to the pastor's sermon with his brother sitting next to him. Dean wasn't listening or didn't appear to be. Sam didn't like that Dean didn't pay attention in church. Sam found the stories the pastor told wonderfully interesting and he supposed that meant he'd go to Heaven. He also supposed that if you didn't pay attention in church that meant you would go to Hell because if you can't pay attention then you must not believe in God. He didn't want Dean to go to Hell because he didn't have faith.

"…What we learn from those lines is what I love the most about Thomas he is an intense and passionate person who does what needs to be done. That ends today's Sermon. Let us all bow our heads in a moment of silence for all the men fighting in the War Between the States."

Sammy nudged Dean who wasn't bowing his head and looked like he was ready to fall asleep.

Dean jumped when Sammy's elbow hit him sharply in the ribs. He blinked and realized he must have done something wrong. Looking around he saw that everyone else was praying. Dean wondered what they were praying for. By the time Dean put his head down the moment was over and the Pastor was dismissing everyone.

"I'll see you back at the house for lunch Dean." Sammy said as everyone stood up. Before Dean had a chance to react Sammy grabbed his hat and ran to join the other boys as they pushed pasted the adults who were standing in the aisles talking.

Dean was taken aback. He was hurt that Sam didn't seem to have any interest in him even after he'd not seen him all week. He stood up determined not to show what he was feeling. He picked up his hat and straightened the hymnal Sammy had left askew on the bench in his hast.

Pastor Jim came down off the pulpit "Go on outside Dean. I'll see you boys back at the house in about an hour and we'll talk some more." Jim patted him on the back and made his way past Dean to talk with his parishioners.

Dean slipped out the church's back door rather than push his way through all the church ladies and their husbands.

* * *

Outside the sun had warmed things up a bit and Dean walked down to the stable where Sam and some of the other children were standing along the fence looking at two horses that were new in the corral.

"They must belong to cowboys." Zach said matter of factly.

"Probably outlaws." Andy corrected.

"Yeah they probably belong to horse thieves." Sammy decided as he and his friends put together a back story for the wild looking horses' owners.

Dean who would have usually stood back and watched his brother stepped forward up to the fence where the younger boys were. He didn't pay any attention when Harry moved away from him to the other side of Sam. It didn't matter and the earlier slight by his brother was forgotten.

Dean was suddenly love struck. She was beautiful.

She was an all black filly. She bucked and pranced in the corral stretching her legs and warming up in the spring sun. To Dean she looked uninhabited and had a fierce spark in her eyes. Dean wondered who she belonged to and how he could find enough money to buy her.

When she got close to the fence he held out his hand and waited. He wished he had something to give her but he wasn't in the habit of carrying sugar or carrots in his pockets.

"Dean don't." Sam warned. The younger boys had learned the hard way that the sable owner didn't like children bothered the horses.

Dean didn't hear his brother's warning his attention was all focused on the filly who had just nudged his hand with her nose. Dean smiled at her and patted her neck.

"Sam your brother is going to get us in trouble." Harry accused, he didn't want to have to clean stalls again on account of weird Dean Winchester.

"Dean stop." Sam said nearly whining at his brother. Dean turned away from the filly and looked at Sammy who was giving him a very stern look. Dean for the second time that day wondered what he'd done wrong.

When Dean took his hand from her neck the filly ran back out into the corral to play with the other pony. Dean's attention turned back to her from Sammy.

"You coming Sam?" Andy yelled as he and the other boys headed down the road to the general store.

"Wait up." Sam called back. "I told you I'd see you later Dean." Sammy said harshly as he ran after the other boys.

Dean stood at the corral confused. The filly strutted back around to where Dean was standing. Dean patted her on the nose. "I don't know what just happened girl."

* * *

Eventually the stable hand came and took the ponies back into the stable and Dean realized that he didn't know how long he'd been standing there watching the filly. He started walking back to the pastor's house hoping he'd find an excuse to come back and see the filly again. He got as far as the general store when Gordan stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey Dean, where ya been?" Gordan stepped in front of Dean and two of the bender boys stepped behind him. Dean looked down and tried to walk past him but Gordan but a hand out and stopped him. "Going so fast? We missed you this week Dean." Gordan said with all the warmth of an icicle.

Dean tried going the other direction but the Benders pushed him back in front of Gordan.

"We heard you got kicked out of school, Dean. Mrs. Ellen she told us you were just too dumb." Gordan smiled like a snake and Dean clenched his fists. "She said she didn't want a freak like you in her class anymore and you know I've got to agree with her." The bully stepped in closer to Dean. "It was so much nicer learning in a freak free classroom."

"Leave him alone."Sammy shouted as he come out of the general store and ran to his brother's side.

"Stay out of this short stack." Gordan spat and Dean watched helpless as his brother was pushed down. Sammy landed on his butt with a thump. Dean reached his boiling point; it was one thing to mess with him it was another entirely to touch Sammy.

Gordan didn't know what hit him when Dean's first punch landed squarely on his jaw knocking him back.

Dean shook the hand he'd just hit Gordan with trying to get the feeling back in it. He helped Sammy up off the ground completely forgetting about the two brutes standing behind them. Lee swung first then his brother. They didn't connect at all Dean dodged them both. In a spare second he nudged a stunned Sammy out of the line of fire. Gordan got quickly over his shock and the fight turned into three against one.

It didn't last long Dean got in two more good punches and one of the fists flying at him landed soundly on his mouth then they were all being dragged apart. The bully's were pulled off him in different directions by their fathers and uncles. Dean was the last one standing in front of the general store. Looking around he saw lots of eyes peering through the windows at him.

Dean had just made the town legend about the Winchesters that much truer. Dean wiped the blood from his lip.

Sammy came timidly back out of the general store. "You ok?"

Dean nodded. "Let's go Sammy." Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and they headed off to lunch leaving the other boys awestruck.

**TBC….**

Thank you for reading.


	15. Chapter 15

Faltered: Chapter 15

He had made a point of walking by the stable on his way back to the Gunsmith shop Monday morning hoping to see her but the filly was nowhere to be seen. His heart sank. He was certain she was gone.

The school bell ringing across town did nothing to improve his mood.

He found Bobby at the workbench looking very much like he'd been there all night.

"Morning." Dean spoke as he closed the door to the shop.

Bobby grunted something unintelligible and didn't take his eyes from the apparently delicate task he was performing.

"Get me that oil can will you boy." Bobby held his hand out and Dean quickly found the can.

Bobby like a doctor administering over a wounded patience gently oiled the inner workings of the gun. Finally he set the can down and sat back with a sigh. Dean stood just behind him looking over his shoulder at the fine piece of machinery with the pearl grip.

"Complicated things these custom jobs, wouldn't use one myself especially when I don't know the maker. Who knows what could go wrong, but I'll clean one, sure, makes life interesting. Impressive isn't she?" Bobby held the gun up to the light and looked back to Dean whose eyes were fixed on the gun.

"Good Lord boy what did ya get in a fight with an angry bear?" Bobby exclaimed as he took in the swollen side of Dean's mouth and the bruise that discolored his chin. Dean jumped at Bobby's exclamation then winced as he hurt his split lip.

"Lose any teeth?" Bobby inquired as he put the gun back down.

"No." Dean shook his head.

"Well that's good, so how's the other guy look?" Bobby patted the boy on the shoulder, as he got up from his stool.

"Guys." Dean's eyebrow hitched.

"What? No. How many?" Bobby looked at the kid.

"Three. Gordan and two Bender boys." Bobby looked back at Dean a little startled. "Yeah I heard about that, Old man Bender came in here yesterday talking about his boys getting roughed up." Bobby squinted at the boy. "Don't go making this a habit it's not good for business."

Dean nodded and a slight smile tugged at his damaged lips.

* * *

Dean was out in back of the shop cleaning gun barrels with hot water when he heard the front door to the shop open. Dean quickly put aside what he was doing, wiped his smudged hands off as best he could and went to see who had come.

Bobby and two men Dean didn't recognize were in the shop talking over a very large very old looking book when Dean walked in the back door.

Everything stopped abruptly and awkwardly when they heard Dean. Bobby quickly closed the book and the two strangers looked hard at the new arrival who looked as surprised at seeing them as they were at seeing him.

"Fellas this is my new apprentice." Bobby told them and the strangers relaxed a bit. "Get in here boy and shut that door." Bobby ordered and Dean did as he was told.

"Dean this is Caleb and Ericson." Dean didn't move from the back of the shop as he eyed the roughneck cowboys, he was always wary of strangers.

"How's old Bobby here treating you kid?" Caleb slapped Bobby on the back and the two strangers laughed loudly.

Dean didn't react to the man's question. The shinny Pearl grip handle of the gun at Ericson's hip, had caught his eye, it was the fancy one that Bobby had been working on that morning.

The mood in the room quickly changed again. "What r you looking at kid?" The cowboy demanded and pulled his coat around him so the gun was no longer visible. Dean blinked and then looked down at the floor embarrassed.

"Dean go on upstairs and but some coffee on." Bobby said giving Dean an excuse to escape the present company. The strangers watched Dean limp up the stairs and out of sight.

"Bobby that boy sure doesn't look like much." Ericson scoffed.

"No sir, Bobby he looks pretty wet behind the ears. What's he doing as your apprentice? Wouldn't he be better suited to cooking or do the wash?" Caleb snickered.

"Well I tell ya, you can ask him that yourself after he puts a bullet between your eyes at a hundred paces before you get your gun out of its holster." Bobby squinted his eyes at the other man.

Ericson gave a low whistle. "Really? That good?"

"I never would have quest it." Caleb said wide eyed.

"He might be a better shot but I'm pretty sure I could out run the kid." The cowboys were having a good laugh at Dean's expense.

Bobby shook his head and both men shut up. They didn't want to make Bobby mad. "Fellas that there is John Winchester's son."

"I didn't think John had any children." Caleb said surprised. When he met John he had never struck him as a family man.

"That means…is he trained?" Ericson asked. It was a good question one that Bobby had been wondering himself.

"That kid's a hunter?" Caleb was finding it hard to believe.

"I don't rightly know. I haven't had the right time to bring it up, kids only been here a week. No doubt John taught him how to shoot. The question is what did he teach the boy to shoot at." Most young men learned to shoot eventually. They needed to know how to feed their families.

"You gonna train him to hunt Bobby?" Ericson ribbed the gunsmith.

"I not gonna be the person who tells him what goes bump in the night. If he doesn't know then I'm gonna leave it at that." Bobby really didn't want that weight on his shoulders. He also didn't want John Winchester's wrath.

"But if he does, if John told him…" Both the cowboys looked expectantly at Bobby.

"Well if that's the case then, yeah…" Bobby hesitated. He hated pulling anyone into the life but if the boy already knew about it. Well he wouldn't want the kid getting hurt because he didn't have the right training. "Yeah I'd train him, no sense in not."

Bobby and the men clomped loudly up the stairs.

The coffee hissed on the small wood stove as they took seats around the table and Bobby grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. Dean stood off to the side and watched. "So I've got your shot guns downstairs and I'll make the modifications. I can make the rounds you want but I'm gonna need more salt. I can also put together some sage bags for you but I'll need to get twine and burlap." Bobby started writing a list SALT, TWINE, BURLAP.

"Anything else you can like of?"He asked as Dean stood off to the side getting cups for the coffee down from the cabinet.

"We need a big box of matches and a thing of lamp oil." Caleb looked over at Dean to see if the boy gave any indication of knowing what they were talking about. He didn't seem too. Bobby wrote MATCHES, LAMP OIL.

Dean who had stayed over by the stove was listening to the list the men were making.

"And some iron slugs. Will the blacksmith make them?" Ericson asked.

"Yeah, he doesn't ask too many questions." Bobby added IRON SLUGS to the paper and handed the list to his apprentice.

Dean took it and looked back at the men.

Dean's look said it all.

He knew.

TBC…


End file.
